


Summer

by Awesomeist0



Series: Lux Aeterna [1]
Category: Dredd (2012), Requiem for a Dream (2000), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Brendol and Madeline Hux's A+ Parenting, Drug Use, Eating Disorders, First Love, Heavy Angst, Hux and Clan Techie are Twins, Kylo Ren & Ben Solo are Different People, M/M, Mental Breakdown, kylux adjacent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 22:00:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19450339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awesomeist0/pseuds/Awesomeist0
Summary: Techie is lost.His twin brother, Armitage, is everything that he can never be.  His father barely cares for him.  His mother uses him as a means to an end.  When he begins a new relationship with Matt, the two try to force the pieces of their shattered lives together to make each other whole.It works, for a while.  Until it doesn't.This is the beginning of their downfall.  Because no matter how much they claim to love each other, their addictions will always come first.  Techie starves.  Matt consumes.  And eventually, everyone breaks.





	Summer

**Author's Note:**

> Please note any and all trigger warnings. This will not be a happy story. I try to keep the more disturbing things vague, but there will be explicit mentions of drug use, mental illness, and an eventual suicide attempt. This is not a retelling of Requiem for a Dream, but this story has the same overall tone and feel. Some, though not all, events from the film may crossover.
> 
> I've been out of the Kylux fandom for a few years now, but I rediscovered this story in my Google docs and decided to share it. If this premise has been done before, let me know and I'll remove it.

_“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven:_

_A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;_

_A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;_

_A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;_

_A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;_

_A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;_

_A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;_

_A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.”_

_\---_ Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 KJV

SUMMER

***

“The doctor will be with you in just a few moments, Mrs. Hux.” Nurse Piano Teeth

_//no, that’s not nice, Techie. she’s always been so kind to you and Ma, but holy damn, her teeth are so huge and her mouth looks like a keyboard and you could surely play Moonlight Sonata on her face//_

smiled distractedly over at him. Sized him up. It had been about a month since Ma-Ma’s last appointment at the pain clinic, and every single time he brought her, he felt judged. Like his mother’s enabler. Take her in, replenish her stores of OxyContin and Valium. Come back again in four weeks. Lather, rinse, repeat. But people like Ma - bored, emotionally pained housewives looking to escape for an afternoon in a pill and a glass of wine were the reason that places like this were in business. So what right did the nurse have to judge him?

“And Jeremy, darling, Doctor Bills could definitely help you with your little weight problem.” 

His palms throbbed, warning him that if he dug his nails any deeper into his skin he would bleed.

Ma looked sadly over at him, offering a *tisk* and a long-suffering sigh. “Oh believe me, we’ve had this discussion before. I keep telling him that if he loses fifty pounds his life will change, but what do I know? I’m just his mother.”

“I’m not _that_ heavy, Ma.” And he wasn’t. Sure, 230 pounds on his 6’1 frame wasn’t exactly ideal, but it wasn’t like he was a blob.

And Matt seemed to like his body just as it was. 

Ma-Ma clicked her tongue in displeasure. “You wouldn’t see _Armitage_ letting himself go like that.” She smiled at Nurse Piano Teeth; the special wistful smile reserved only for speaking about his twin brother. “Armitage is my other son. He’s going into the Naval Academy in the fall.”

“Impressive.” The two older women began discussing at length all of his brother’s amazing deeds and accomplishments, and he tried not to let himself hear it. Armitage was brilliant; top of their class, actually, with an amazing future stretched out before him. All of the advantages in the world that Techie knew he was unworthy to even dream of.

_//well I’m five minutes older than that asshole so fuck him//_

He drew a shuddering breath, glancing down at his watch as the digital numbers dutifully ticked closer to 4:00. Or, as he liked to think of it, the magical hour of the day when Matt got off of work, and he was allowed to be real. Like he mattered to someone. They had a date; their second real one, if you didn’t count the time Techie sucked him off under the bleachers during graduation.

Finally, the door to the exam room swung open, revealing the ever dumpy and sweaty Dr. Bills. ( _Dr. Pills_ , his brain kept wanting to autocorrect; not that he would ever do so here. Or in front of Ma-Ma.) Bills kept his eyes trained on Ma-Ma’s chart, asking all of the right questions though clearly uninterested in any of her answers. As long as she could pay and in cash, she’d get what she wanted. Three minutes later and armed with new prescriptions, they piled into his gleaming new Audi. Which was given to him as a graduation present, but he read between the lines as a “get the fuck out of my house” present. It’d be 45 minutes until her scripts would be ready for pick-up, and Techie was absolutely terrified she’d want him to wait around for them. And then he’d definitely be late for his date with Matt, and the thought of it made him want to vomit.

But she was tired and achy and could not stand to be in the luxury vehicle for even a moment more, so he dropped her off at the mansion. It was an unspoken understanding between the two of them. He’d take her for her pills and her wine and the other little secret errands she didn’t want his father to know about. And in return, she wouldn’t question where he went. Or why his grades slipped away to nothing. Or pretty much anything else about him.

*

“Do you think I’m fat?”

Strong, strong arms closed tightly around his bare torso. “I think you’re perfect.” Matt nuzzled the side of his neck and lightly traced his fingertips across Techie’s

_//far too large; far too doughy//_

belly. He tensed at the contact, hating that Matt could see and feel all of his flaws. 

“You can’t mean that.” His cheeks blazed brighter than fire, closer to a dwarf star about to go nova. Techie wanted to turn to look at Matt; to fall into his dark expressive eyes and just drown. But he was ashamed. Of his red face; his pudgy cheeks. The beginnings of a double chin that haunted him in all his photos. How could someone like Matt want anything to do with _him_?

“I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” Matt held him tighter, and Techie tried not to see the little red pin pricks and bruises studding the pale skin of his inner arms. Because it didn’t matter what Matt did in his spare time, as long as they could lay here, like this. Everyone was addicted to something anyway. Ma had her pills. His father had his job, and the bevy of nubile young whores he fucked on the side. Armitage...well, he was barely human anyhow. It didn’t matter. Shouldn’t matter that Matt used heroin. Besides, it wasn’t like he was an _addict_. He had a job. A life.

“Yeah, but you’re…” Techie pressed a light kiss against the underside of Matt’s wrist. “Christ, you’re shredded. You’ve got, like an 8-pack, and I’ve got a keg.”

Matt’s chuckle was gentle and almost musical, lacking any of the harshness when others found humor at his expense. “Okay, first of all, I don’t have an 8-pack. And even if I did, who the fuck cares?” He shifted Techie slightly in his arms so they were laying side by side and nose-against-nose with their heads against the plush armrest of the couch. “If I wanted to fuck myself, I’d jerk off. I want to fuck _you_ , Techie.”

Their lips joined and released, and to Techie it almost felt like Matt was physically draining the pain from his body. Like sucking the venom from a snakebite. Laying here with Matt as the buttery late afternoon sun washed over him like a warm bath. Feeling sore but still so disgustingly happy. If he could just stop time and spend the rest of eternity just laying here-

“I’m back, man! Let’s fire up!”

And with the arrival of Matt’s roommate, the aura of quiet peace popped like a soap bubble exposed to the elements. It sucked and he hated to do so, but Techie managed to wrench himself free from his lover’s vice-like grip with only moments to spare before Poe bounded in like an overly eager puppy. He at least had the decency to look embarrassed for the three seconds it took Techie to get his boxer briefs back on. “Don’t you fucking knock?!”

Poe smirked at Matt, and it was carefree and bright, like a child on the first day of summer vacation. “Don’t have to, _pendejo_ ; I live here too.”

“Well Techie doesn’t need you to see him with his dick out.” Matt gently raked his fingers through the tangled nest of his strawberry blonde hair. He was sure he should have been mortified to be seen like this; pudgy body on display and covered in a mixture of sweat and cum. But the sweet way his lover touched him and looked at him like he was something precious that deserved to be treasured made him too happy to care.

Poe glanced down distastefully at Matt’s very visible and still very wet dick. “Yeah. So I’m not flying with you until you put your goddamn pants on.”

“Intimidated?” 

Poe scoffed, but it was done in such a way to suggest that Matt’s taunt held a kernel of truth to it. “My H, my rules.”

“Fine. Throw me my fucking jeans and let’s get cooking.”

Techie did not want to see this. 

Knowing about his vice was one thing. But actually seeing it...that was something he didn’t think he could handle. He was certain that nothing he saw Matt do could compare to the horrible images he had in his mind. Dirty needles. Jabbing his flesh. Tearing him apart and flooding his veins with a poison he was helpless to protect his lover against.

“You don’t look so good.”

He found his breath but only barely. Matt’s eyes were huge and sad; a hair’s breadth away from tears. But then again, he always seemed so sad. Even at the height of their passion, when everything should be bright and beautiful, Matt seemed on the verge of breaking down. Part of him feared it was the drugs...the craving to consume more and more creeping up with every syringe he injects. 

Maybe…

Maybe…

If he was better. Perfect. He’d be enough for Matt. Matt wouldn’t need chemicals to trick his brain into thinking he was content.

He shrugged, trying his best to smile but certain that it looked closer to a grimace. “Do you mind if I shower?”

Matt shrugged, his mind visibly churning and three steps ahead of where it was now. “Sure. There’s towels and shit in the closet. Don’t use the Axe body wash; it’s Poe’s and he flips shit if anyone else smells like a teenage douchebag.”

“Very fucking funny.” There’s a reusable grocery bag on the table; one covered in photos of fresh produce in all the colors of the rainbow. Get your 5 servings a day. It’s what the USDA recommends. Poe glanced over at him as he began taking the items out. A length of rubber tubing. A spoon. A glass measuring cup that looked like one of the beakers from his chemistry class. Cotton balls. “Matt’s a shitty host, bro. Want the first taste?”

He’s not going to flinch. Not going to run. He’s not going to pass judgement on them in any way.

But he can’t look at this.

“N-no. I’m okay.” His throat was tight and thick, almost as though lined with the half empty bag of cotton. What would they even use cotton for anyway? He thinks back to the vaccinations that he’d received over the years. Do Matt and Poe actually bother to wipe their skin down with rubbing alcohol, the way that the bored nurses aids did every time, without fail?

Poe didn’t seem to care one way or another, but Matt took his hand; eyes glimmering with unspoken concern. “Does this bother you?”

Of course it did.

It terrified him, in fact. But he wasn’t going to let on. He tried to smile again, and this time, it felt closer to the half-assed attempt he frequently wore when confronted with all of Armitage’s success. It was enough to fool his family. But apparently not Matt.

_//just keep your mouth fucking shut and don’t stare, don’t stare//_

“It’s your life,” he said softly. His smile cracked around the edges with each word spoken, but he had to keep it together. Because he couldn’t lose Matt; he couldn’t. Without Matt, there was only silence. Huge rooms and sad people and a father who was ashamed of him and a brother who pitied him and a mother too concerned with her pills and the number on the scale to see that he was suffering, oh how he was suffering. Drowning in the silence and the feelings of dread and barely able to function.

But he had Matt now, to keep him real. And it didn’t matter what his boyfriend did.

His lover skimmed his thumb down the base of his wrist, lightly pressing against the cluster of tiny bird-like bones next to his hand. “Think about where you want to go after we’re done,” he said softly. “We’ll get dinner or something.”

Not like he really needed to eat, but Techie kept smiling the same false smile, genuinely grateful for Matt’s concern.

He walked out of the room, trying to go numb as the noises of excitement and anticipation shoved him away like a pair of invisible hands.

*

Over the years, as the sadness set in and just thinking about his reflection became repellant, Techie learned to be a master of not seeing. If he turned his back just so, he didn’t have to see his reflection as he brushed his teeth. If he rushed past the door and kept his head down, he wouldn’t have to see his naked body in the full length mirror. 

Not surprisingly, Matt and Poe had one too. One of the cheap frame-style mirrors, affixed flat to the bathroom door so he couldn’t even cover it with a towel. It caught him off guard at first; closing the door and finding himself staring into his own terrified, wide-eyed face. He shuddered as he climbed into the tub, feeling his neck prickle as he imagined his reflected eyes upon him. Judging him.

Like Armitage.

Techie turned the water on and up, wincing as the hot spray pounded against his sensitive skin. Something had to change. _He_ had to change. He had to become someone else, someone worthy of Matt’s love. Not that he even had it now, but maybe if he were thin enough. Attractive enough and Matt would love him. And if they were in love, he wouldn’t need the heroin. Because love, love, love should be all you need. Like that song that Ma used to play when he and Armitage were kids. She’d play the CD on his father’s expensive sound system, and they’d all dance and laugh and it didn’t matter that they looked ridiculous. 

_//but don’t tell your father. this is a secret for just us three; the three musketeers. the three caballeros//_

That had been years ago.

He tried to wrap the bath towel around his waist, horrified when it was barely able to contain him. A bath towel. The epitome of one size fits all. 

Blinking back tears, Techie glared at the inexpensive bathroom scale that seemed to be watching his struggle in silent amusement. “Fuck you,” he hissed at it, trying as best he could to keep from seeing himself. “I’m not going to eat a single fucking thing until I’m under 200 pounds. Just you wait.”

The scale said nothing. But then again, how could it? It simply sat, staring into his soul. Unblinking. Unbelieving. 

He pulled his jeans back on slowly, wondering if he’d burned through enough time. Maybe just a moment more, just to be safe. But there was nowhere to hide here, between the scale and the mirror, he felt so exposed. Techie pulled his hair into a messy ponytail at the nape of his neck, wishing he had access to a stick of deodorant. Or a toothbrush. He knew he was clean; pink and tingling from a very slight burn, but he didn't quite feel it. Maybe it was being in the dingy bathroom with the one burnt out lightbulb and patches of dark mold on the always damp ceiling. 

And the shadows. Too many shadows.

Techie crossed his arms tightly across his bare torso, uncertain if he wanted to keep the comfortable memory of Matt’s touch in, or the rest of the world out. His t-shirt was stained with some unknown bodily fluid, and he crossed the small hallway back to the living room slowly, his heart swollen and pulled tighter with each step he took.

“-scrape together 10k and we could get a pound of pure, no problem.”

“Pass.” He saw Matt lay back fully against the couch, his head lolling as he stared up at the ceiling, at nothing. “I’m not getting boxed, and besides, where the fuck would we sell? Name a single goddamn block that isn’t owned already.”

“You know I’ve got connections.”

“Fuck that shit.” His smile was too big to be natural, like that creepy mural of Humpty Dumpty on the side of the arcade. All teeth and enormous eyes, managing to look somehow elated and murderous. Like a serial killer just after selecting the perfect victim. As a child, the image had given him nightmares, inserting itself into all of his dreams just to stand there. Grinning. Even now, on the rare occasion that he went to the boardwalk, he pulled the collar of his shirt over his neck. But he wasn't afraid now. Not of Matt.

“Wouldn't it be better than begging Angel for fucking crumbs every day?” Poe scratched absently at the inside of his arm. “We’d be writing our own fucking ticket.”

“He’s your D boy. You don't like it, find a new connection.”

A massive roach darted by Techie’s sneaker, scurrying beneath the baseboard to join the other million members of his family. He screeched without meaning to; the primal terror of seeing such an invader rewriting his brain. “You okay?”

He nodded, feeling so very humiliated at his overreaction. “Y-yeah. Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. Those fucking things are vicious.” Matt opened his arms and he was quick to run to them. Pressed his face into his lover’s thankfully bare chest and just shook. “I tried spraying the kitchen with Raid a while back. Swear they just laughed at me.” His eyes were glassy. Dark brown irises shining and ensnaring his pin sized pupils. “Have you decided where you want to go?”

“It really doesn't matter to me.” As long as they were out of this room. This place that both made him feel both so safe and vulnerable, where there was nothing that could hurt him and everything, everything that would destroy both his lover and his friend. 

“Shit, I'd be fine just staying here.” Matt grasped halfheartedly at the remote on Poe’s lap. “Not this _JUICE by Tappy_ shit again.”

“It’s guaranteed to work. Follow his steps and live the life of your dreams.” He stared glassy eyed at the television, munching mindlessly on a rubbery piece of beef jerky. Tappy Tibbons looked out of the television directly at Techie. 

The host's lip curled up in disgust at what he saw.

“You are one gullible motherfucker.” Techie felt fingers curl around his wrist, and the warmth there felt like it was burning. Tappy saw too. And immediately began preaching all about the latest and greatest step in his plan; no orgasms. “C’mon. We’re getting out of here.”

_“Remember...Join us! In creating excellence!”_

_//techie!//_

He flinches without meaning to, heart thrumming painfully against his ribs as Tappy stared at him hard. Judging, With much more heat in his eyes than Ma ever did. He seemed to be personally offended that he was refusing to take the three steps to better his life, because really, why wouldn’t he? The throng of middle aged women in the studio audience that sat in rapt attention certainly would. He should be _grateful_ for this personal attention from Tappy Tibbons, of all people. Even if it was fucking impossible.

“Techie!”

Techie managed to rip his eyes away from the television. “A-Alright. Let’s go.”

*

There wasn’t much of anything to do in Atlantic City. Neither he nor Matt drank, and with his fear of people in general and his boyfriend’s hatred of having his personal space invaded, clubbing was out.

_//yet somehow you’re allowed to touch perfection?//_

He could almost see Tappy Tibbons in his mind’s eye. Perfect television ready smile painted on his lips, even though his eyes were so cold. Staring through Techie like the scope on a sniper rifle. Seeing everything... _everything_ within him, even the things he wanted to keep hidden forever. Even from himself.

They ended up at a small arcade near the very end of the boardwalk. Further down than the broken down glittering casinos anchored, and flanked by a “massage parlor” with a dead eyed young woman in the window, and a boarded up jewelry store. With the exception of the odd surry dutifully plodding from one side of the boardwalk to the next in hopes of finding an exhausted vacationer, they were pretty much alone. As Techie always wanted.

Matt ordered them a pizza to share that he wanted nothing to do with. But he paid, dutifully. Took only a few sips from an iceless cup of diet coke and smiled as the seemingly endless story Matt was telling brushed lightly against his consciousness. He wasn’t listening to it; not really. But he loved hearing Matt talk. It made him feel so…

Loved.

It was much too early for that. Techie knew it. A few orgasms aren’t the magic key to forever, regardless of how desperately he wanted it to be. He stared down at the remaining pizza, seeing himself reflected up in the grese and hating, _fucking hating,_ what he saw. He bit the straw harshly, the clear plastic jamming into his tongue and making him wince.

And he didn’t touch the pizza.

The rest of the evening went by as quickly as a dream. As much as he wanted to cling to it, Techie could practically feel their sweet moments together streaming out through his fingers like the silvery strands of a dream. They played a few rounds of skeeball together in the darkened lane, and even though more than half of the multicolored lights on the machine were blown out and most of the paint had long since been chipped away, it was perfect. He did terribly, of course, but Matt was incredible. He’d scored enough points to win Techie a prize, and he clutched at the dusty stuffed bear as if it was the most precious thing in the world to him. 

Matt’s dark eyes seemed to sparkle brighter than the stars that hung low and lazily in the sky outside. “You keep cuddling that toy and I’m going to get jealous.”

Techie’s first very strong impulse was to ask why. But he knew he had no right to. He cared so deeply for this man; was freefalling deep into a pit that had no bottom. Not that he ever wanted to stop falling further and further for Matt. “Do you want me to cuddle you instead?”

His

_//god, how could this perfect man possibly be_ his? _//_

boyfriend placed his hands on Techie’s shoulders, pulling him so tightly against the muscled wall of his chest that the bear was forced to fall between them. “Keep being so sweet and I’m going to have to fall in love with you.”

Techie found that he wasn’t able to breathe for a full fifteen seconds. It was too much. Too much of everything bright and pure and perfect wrapped in the curiously attractive package of Matt Sackler. If this was a movie, everything would simply fade to black with the two of them wrapped in each other’s arms.

But it wasn’t. They’d hit the pinnacle of all that they could be tonight. And now everything; the precious heat that burned between them and the magic tangled in the fabric of the night was starting to dissipate. Matt was smiling still, but unlike before when he could see the happiness in it radiating off of him, now it was a lie. He scratched absently at his arm, and the tears of absolute happiness that were dammed up inside of him were switching over to pain. He may love Matt. But Matt loved heroin. And at least for a while, he’d have to settle for second place.

Excuses were made. Matt had to be at an installation job first thing in the morning and Techie had to drive at least an hour back to Ocean City anyway, so the night had to end. Placed into stasis and all he could hope was that they could slip back into it as easily as opening a book. As they got closer and closer to Matt and Poe’s apartment, Techie could feel the tears behind his eyes pulse harder and harder and he forced them back, even though it caused him pain. But Matt seemed to be growing lighter. Pulling back to himself as if things would soon be right with the world. “I wanted to ask you. There’s an event this Friday in Philly. I probably won’t get more than a fifteen minute booking, but I’d love to see you there.”

He’d used the word “love.” There was nothing else Techie could do.

“Is this your wrestling?” 

“Yeah.” Matt’s grin was lopsided but at least genuine. “It’s not on TV for WWE money yet, but I’m going to be in the main event. And rumor has it that there are going to be some RoH bookers in the crowd.” Other than a passing familiarity with the name of WWE at all, nothing that his boyfriend made any sense to him. But he was so very happy that Techie couldn’t help catching his anxious excitement. “This could be my shot.” 

“I’d love to go.” His stomach growled in anger as they walked by a McDonalds; the smell of fried food clinging so thickly in his airway that he didn’t want to breathe. He wasn’t going to give in. He _wasn’t_. 

“I’ve wrestled in high school gyms before, but this is the first time I’ve competed in an actual arena. And the 2300 has so much history, too. Did you know that this is where El Generico beat the 1-2-3 Kid to become the King of Trios? Fuck, if I can impress them, I can be so much more.” Techie felt his mind floundering desperately to catch some comment relevant to this conversation, but he felt so woefully out of his element. All he could do was smile and nod, barely focusing on the words and only the fact that Matt was talking. 

Until all the light in his dark eyes snuffed out as quickly as the small flame of a candle.

“ ‘s not like I could sign with them, even if they asked. Once they piss-test me, I’ll pop dirty.” By this point, they’d arrived at Matt and Poe’s apartment building. But instead of going in, Matt led him over to a rust flecked metal bench which was littered with cigarette butts. His hands shaking slightly, he took out a crushed package of cigarettes and stared up at the stars. “This isn’t who I’m going to be forever.” Matt’s eyes locked onto Techie’s; red-rimmed and moist and practically begging him to believe. “I’m not an addict.”

“I know.” The words came tumbling out so fast. Probably too fast.

“I just do it because it feels good, y’know? I don’t _need_ it.” He took a long drag of his cigarette, breathing the smoke up to join the heavy clouds overhead. “I have a job. I can function.”

Techie wanted so badly to touch him then. Not even anything sensual. Just a brush of his skin over Matt’s, offering him all the comfort he so needed but his clumsy words would be unable to provide. Even though all they’d done hours prior was touch, out here with the moon and stars as witness, he didn’t quite know how to. “You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

Matt wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “I like the way you look at me.” He felt his boyfriend’s muscled arm slide lazily over his shoulders. “ _You_. You really see me. Not who I could be. Not who I fucking should be. But me, just the way I am.” With the barrier keeping them separate broken, Techie curled tightly against Matt’s side, pressing a little kiss against his exposed forearm. The streetlight nearby was broken but there was still the moon, so bright and full. Illuminating the tears in Matt’s eyes like crystal rivers and all he wanted to do was drown in them. 

“You see me too.” Whenever others; be they his parents or teachers or pretty much anyone in existence with any knowledge of his family looked at Techie, he knew that they saw only Armitage. The golden child. The epitome of all that was perfect and Techie could never measure up to. “I know I disappoint everyone else, but not you. Never you.”

“Fuck, why couldn’t we have met years ago?” Not bothering to wait for an answer, Matt’s full lips descended on his again. Kissing and teasing and pulling the air from his body but that was okay; he didn’t need it. All he needed was this. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
